Paris in the springtime
…was wet, grey, freezing, and yet somehow still romantic.
Paris in the springtime is a mythical beast: beautiful houses, gardens and streets sprawled out in the sunshine.
That spring there was more grey and rain than sun, and the temperature dropped to near freezing a few times, but the aura of enchantment could not be washed away.
The Asian-inspired gardens at the Musée du Quai Branly were small but a pleasure to walk through.
Pink magnolias in full bloom framed the iconic Eiffel Tower.
It looked like some visitors had paid tribute before me: tiny dolls were tied to one of the blooming branches. This is apparently the tradition of Martia, a Balkan custom of celebrating the first of March.
Even the barren iron corridors of the Pompidou Centre provided a frame for a gorgeous Parisian panorama, showing off the deep blue sky and a dramatic sunset.
I walked through the Jardins des Plantes on a very wet afternoon; it was as grim and rainy as London and yet the gardens stayed elegantly French. The trees were bare but graceful, lining the soggy gravel roads.
The soaking gardens were laid out in the gorgeous style so often seen in French historical movies.
The flowers were not yet out, except for this hanging curtain of pink blossoms that was the only colour not grey or green.
The buds were especially photogenic, and I juggled my camera, umbrella and bag to take some close-ups.
It’s easy to understand why the Impressionists loved this city so much. It was hard to leave it, and we look forward to returning in sunnier times.
Originally published at https://wonderwanderwomen.blogspot.com.